Valentine (Cupid #2)

by Jade Eby

  I should be walking in the other direction. I have a cellphone, money to get my ass off this island quick. I’m scared. That’s why I’m following him. He’s obsessed with me. I think so at least. Would he let me go, or would he follow me all over this earth, and have me in fear for years?

  In that moment, Asher glanced over his shoulder, and she could’ve sworn, he spotted her. She’d been hiding by two tall men that were dressed like decrepit mummies. Gray bandages wrapped all over their body. Red eyes peered out of the top of each face.

  Nodding, Asher turned around and went through a back door with Maxwell, talking about something and pointing in front of them.

  The door shut behind them.

  This is the moment. I can run the other way or move forward. Green or red pill, Diana? Which one?

  She bit her bottom lip.

  Red pill.

  Diana was sure it was the cat inside of her, stretching and rising to attention.

  She made her way through the crowd of endless designer tuxedos and crimson gowns. That color red spread all over the ballroom—bloody silks, rubies sewed along hems, cherry hoop skirts, and scarlet pleats with sharp edges. If not for the elegance, the whole place could’ve served as the perfect backdrop to a party scene in a vampire movie.

  Red pill for a red night. I’ll wait a few seconds, before going outside and sneaking behind them.

  She picked up another long stemmed champagne flute and stopped at a beautiful sculpture of two black bodies intertwined. She couldn’t tell where one body began and ended—only that limbs, torsos, and heads blended together.

  A female voice sounded on her right. “They call that sculpture, The Melding.”

  Diana looked beside her and saw a short Asian woman smiling.

  “Oh? Is that what they call it?” Diana asked.

  “Interesting isn’t it? The two bodies seem to conjoin together.”

  Diana nodded in agreement. “Yes, it is. I’ve never seen something so... creepingly beautiful.”

  The woman laughed. “I suppose you could call it that.”

  “Well, have a good evening.” Diana headed off toward the back door.

  “Are you following Maxwell and Mr. Bishop?”

  That question stopped Diana. She twisted around and faced the woman. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m only asking because I’m supposed to follow you.” She offered her hand. “I’m Maxwell’s assistant, Theresa.”

  Diana shook it. “I like to keep Mr. Bishop in my sight.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you.” She whistled. “He’s... simply gorgeous.”

  A little jealousy pinched at Diana’s gut. She blamed it on the liquor.

  Diana winked. “Maxwell wants you to keep an eye on me?”

  “Yes.” The woman looked proud to confess it. “You’re a reporter. He hates them.”

  “Most business men hate reporters.”

  “Not the ones that don’t have anything to hide.”

  And so your boss has something to hide, and you’re just going to walk up and tell me this?

  Diana calmed herself and sipped some of the champagne. Theresa had snared her attention, in the way that most informants did. Diana stood back and studied the woman. Instead of an immaculate gown, she wore a simple red dress with a big collar that revealed not one inch of her chest or cleavage. A big bow sat on top of her head and reminded Diana of Minnie Mouse. Black and white polka dots covered the flats on her feet.

  “How long have you worked for Maxwell?”

  “That’s a complicated answer. We practically grew up together.”

  “Your families know each other?” Diana smirked. “Parents are college friends and all that jazz?”

  “No.” Embarrassment seemed to pinch at the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know my family. Have you ever heard of the term aged-out?”

  “No.”

  “It’s what they call foster kids that never get adopted. They’re the ones that stay in the system until they turn eighteen and have to survive on they’re own.”

  “Because they’re aged-out?”

  “Yes. I was one of those kids.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t feel bad for me.” Theresa shook her head. The bow flopped with the movement. “Horrible things happen in the system. In some ways I was lucky to be transferred to Ovid Island’s foster home, the one that Maxwell’s family has run for over forty years. We celebrate the anniversary next month.”

  “That’s amazing. I see what you mean now. Maxwell and you sort of grew up together.”

  “His father brought him around a lot and we all played together every summer. I don’t want to bore you with my story. There was something that I wanted to ask you... away from Maxwell.” Theresa looked around as if she worried someone else might see her talking to Diana. “I read your articles about Cupid.”

  Ice cold shock splashed across Diana’s face. “You read about Cupid?”

  “Yes. That’s what the police and you have been calling him. It was announced this morning on the local news.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why didn’t you write an article for the latest victim?”

  “I-I’ve been pretty busy.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Scared?” Diana gritted her teeth. “You have no idea.”

  “I heard that Cupid left a message to you. The whole island has been talking about it. What did the message say?”

  Diana scanned the people around them as if they were whispering about her right then. “The whole island knows about the message?”

  “Yes.”

  Irritation turned her shock and fear all into a bundle of rage. “That should’ve been kept silent by the police.”

  “Too many people on this island are stuffing money into police officers’ pockets. I knew by morning about most of the details. Everyone’s afraid, even Maxwell, and I didn’t think he could be afraid of anything. The cops are leaking details for money. Typical, right? The details of the message is the highest priced item on this island, tonight.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Theresa came closer. “They’re all afraid. You did that, Mrs. Carson.”

  “I didn’t. Cupid did.”

  “But without you, we would’ve never known about him. The police would’ve taken forever to connect the killings. Everyone’s afraid.”

  “Everyone shouldn’t be. I believe Cupid has a particular type of victim... although I’m not a hundred percent sure. This killer is still a mystery to me.”

  For some reason, Theresa came closer and touched Diana’s arm. “I just want to thank you for your articles. No one else will speak up.”

  “No one else will speak up about Cupid?”

  “No.” Theresa shook her head. “No one else will state the obvious, that this Cupid is killing particular men. You listed them, and anyone who’s been on this island for more than a few years, knows that those particular men... well... they weren’t that good at all. Your article is scaring all of the bad men off the island. You and Cupid.”

  She held in her shock. “Me and Cupid?”

  “I don’t know if you know his identity. I hope you do because I worry about you.”

  Diana touched her chest. “Me?”

  “Yes, the article could get attention from Cupid, if you don’t know him. It’s gotten attention from him. I mean goodness, he left you a message.” Theresa looked at her. “What did the message say?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Of course. I understand.” She patted Diana’s shoulder.

  “Thank you. Although the police aren’t taking this seriously, I do think we should leave the details to the investigators and stay out of their way.”

  “Yes. I think you’re right.” She glanced at the closed door. “And you do have Mr. Bishop to keep you... protected. He’s such a strong and big man.”

  Diana tossed her a fake smile. “Asher has really been supportive and kind throughout this
whole process. He’s helping me as I mourn my husband, one of Cupid’s victims. In fact, I should run off and catch up with them. I’d planned on scaring them a little. You know. We are partying at a Monster’s Ball.”

  Theresa took her hand away from Diana and rolled her eyes. “Maxwell will surely love to be scared. He’s a pro at jumping out of the shadows and scaring everyone. However, I’m the hide and seek champ, and have always been.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I try.” She fussed with the bow on her head and stepped back. “Go ahead. There’s no need to keep my eye on you. Maxwell is just on edge. He wanted me to follow you around, while Mr. Bishop and he were away. He’s just being paranoid.”

  “Is he?”

  “Since the last victim, he’s beefed up security.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Her face changed into a neutral expression. “Why do you think he would do that, if Cupid is only killing bad men?”

  With that last statement, Theresa smiled. “Have a good evening, Mrs. Carson. I can’t wait to read your next article. You’ve gained a fan from me and many of the other Servs.”

  “Servs?”

  “Servs is another term that you might not have heard of. It’s what all the people who only work on this island call themselves. In the end, we’re just nameless servants for these people. But, we keep our eyes open and our mouths shut.” She sighed. “Some days, it’s really hard to do that.”

  “Maybe, these... Servs should go to the police.”

  She chuckled. “You’re a very funny person, Mrs. Carson.”

  And then Theresa left.

  Did that really happen?

  Diana had gained fame from her articles before. That wasn’t what caught her off guard.

  Theresa had a different angle. She believed that she knew who Cupid was, and it almost seemed to Diana that the woman hoped her boss would be the next victim.

  Was that the liquor or my imagination? Or do I just want to believe this all, because maybe, just maybe it would make me feel okay for falling in... whatever I am with Asher?

  With a renewed hope in the investigation, she hurried toward the backdoor, glancing behind her every now and then. If anything, she could convince Asher to not kill Maxwell tonight just by telling him the whole conversation.

  He had brains. It would be stupid to go after Maxwell so soon after Theresa’s assumption of Diana possibly knowing the identity of Cupid.

  Theresa is probably watching me from some dark corner right now.

  If Maxwell died tonight, Theresa would make some guesses and probably tell the police. Even if she was scared to talk, she’d have to confess that she saw her boss leave with Asher. It was just her job after all. And everyone knew that Diana had an interest in searching for Neil’s killer. If Theresa told the police that Diana was monitoring both men’s movements that would make the cops curious enough to turn their attention on Asher.

  He couldn’t kill Maxwell tonight.

  Wait a minute. Isn’t this what I should want? For Asher to get caught? What the hell am I thinking? I shouldn’t try to protect him. I should do my best to make him slip up. Let my hands be clean of what I know.

  She stopped at the door and gripped the knob.

  No, no, no. If I do find out that Maxwell is guilty of hurting these kids, and Asher wants to kill him, I should let him. Theresa would be my witness. She’d help me prove that Asher was Cupid. I’d be free of his plans.

  Relief didn’t flow through Diana, just guilt twisting with pain.

  Does Asher deserve it? Should Maxwell die? Wait a minute. Do I really want to protect a pedophile? Hell no.

  She opened the door and rushed through, practically limping forward in the stilettos. Cold wind hit her face. All these plans filled her brain before coming outside, yet under the glow of the moon, something changed inside of her.

  If Maxwell hurt those kids, then... I won’t stand by to protect him.

  She tiptoed forward. Masculine voices sounded up ahead. She followed that direction and hope no one else lingered in the bushes. Anytime a stick cracked or a leaf rustled, she jerked forward in fear.

  Don’t be scared, Diana. The monsters are in front of you.

  It took several minutes to catch up with them. They’d gone down a path decorated in sea shells. She’d given up, taken off her shoes, and crept the rest of the way.

  When the voices sounded louder, she ducked behind a tree, waited a few seconds, and peeked.

  Asher and Maxwell stood in front of a huge green house. At least she assumed it was them. Two dark figures were in front of the door—one tall and muscular, and the other small like Maxwell.

  “I never take for granted where I came from.” Maxwell’s voice rose in the air. Keys jingled next. “This is why I want to make sure others never have to endure hardships. I want them to feel loved, encouraged, and supported.”

  Asher’s dark voice came next. “You’re a very kind man. Not many on this island are like you.”

  “Oh thank you, Bishop.”

  “Mr. Bishop,” Asher corrected.

  “Yes, Mr. Bishop.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Mr. Bishop, I disagree with you, however.”

  “You do?”

  “There are many men on this island that love children as much as I do.”

  Let’s hope not.

  A sick shiver ran through Diana.

  “That’s exactly why I live on this island.” Asher chuckled, and Maxwell joined along. “For all the many men on here and their love of children. I’m dedicated to children, myself.”

  “Right.” Maxwell lowered his head. “Well, if you’re ever interested in volunteering at the home, let me know.”

  “Tell me more about this volunteer program.”

  They both walked inside. The door remained ajar. No doubt, Asher made sure of that.

  Holding her shoes, Diana tiptoed in the shadows, opening and closing the foster home door with a silent ease.

  Maxwell and Asher were only a few feet ahead of her and around the corner. Their laughter drifted from the right and the floorboards creaked beneath her as she walked forward.

  She froze but no one came toward her. No other sound filled the room. Just silence.

  Where’s the home manager, or whoever watches the kids in the evening?

  Diana scanned the room. It was just a small space, used for nothing, it seemed, but entering and exiting.

  This is a back entrance. Of course.

  She checked the ceilings.

  No cameras? I don’t think so. Do you not want anyone seeing you coming and going through this entrance, Maxwell?

  She headed over to the corner where the men’s voices had come from and peeked. Nothing but empty hallway greeted her eyes. They’d probably entered a room or turned another corner.

  She exhaled and went in the other direction. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Sweat clung to the pits of her arms and stained the top of her gown.

  This wasn’t her first time sneaking into a building. And it certainly wasn’t the first time adrenaline pumped through her as she did something she knew she shouldn’t be doing. It was just her first time doing it all in a freaking gown. The pearls swished back and forth with the wispy garment. On a runway, it would have been great. During a snooping opportunity, not so much.

  Where the hell do I start? Asher, you’re insane. Go investigate, you say. Where? What? How? Hmmmm.

  Black doors appeared on the right. Names hung on each one. Diana walked by all of them and then stopped at the one that read,

  Maxwell Grayson

  One fact reigned true for most rich people. They always kept their secrets right in their office, too lazy and comfortable in the fact that they had power and no one would stop them. Had they never read the novels where the bad guys always got it in the end?

  “Please say it’s open. Please say it’s open.” She turned the knob with ease. “No need to lock your office
door, when you own the place? Stupid. Stupid.”

  She walked into pitch-black darkness and closed the door.

  I wish I brought my pocket book with the tiny flashlight.

  Then someone opened the door behind her. It all happened so fast. She jumped. A small person crashed into Diana. Right as she was going to ask who it was, they raised a huge object in the air and hit her in the head.

  A sharp pain bit at the front of her skull, and all she could whisper before she collapsed to the floor was,

  “Cupid.”

  Seven

  Asher

  Spending time with Maxwell had taken the last bit of patience out of Asher.

  Finding no sight of Diana had pissed him off so bad, he clenched and unclenched his hands into fists within his pockets. He’d called her phone, texted several messages, checked every inch of the ballroom, and even stormed into all of the ladies’ bathrooms, to a few women’s horror. Granted, not all of the women minded.

  There was no denying it. She was missing from Maxwell’s party—not a single witness to account for where she was or where she could have gone. Even Maxwell’s assistant, a short Asian woman, said she hadn’t talked to or seen Diana at all the whole night.

  He hadn’t believed that she would actually do it.

  Run away.

  He’d been stern in his warnings, and her trembling lips persuaded his softer side. Plus, she had to know the consequences.

  She’s gone. What does this mean for me? Do I kill Maxwell now, so that I can focus all of my attention onto Diana?

  Lust had blinded him, and her rosy scent had clogged his senses. He hadn’t seen the deceit on those lips. No lies prickled from her fingers when they shook hands that night and agreed to work together on Maxwell. His heart bet everything on Diana, put it all out on the line, and handed over every ounce of his trust.

  She loves me not.

  Diana, his little bird had transformed back into a curious cat.

  When had it begun?

  Had she started shapeshifting in the limo, right as those sweet lips touched his? He hadn’t seen it. Her soft black feathers remained, not thick cat fur. Sure, she’d been scared, but her feathers hadn’t been ruffled. They’d lifted in the breeze.